She was never able to trace the changes her attitude had undergone, from the time when she believed herself to be the pampered Queen of Fortune, the crown of a good man’s love (and secretly, but nobly, worshipping some one else), to the time when she realized she was in fact just a mannequin for her lover’s imagination, and that he cared no more for the realities of her being, for the things she felt and desired, for the passions and dreams that might move her, than a child cares for the sawdust in its doll. With nobody who cares … the both of us!" He was real in this moment. “Why, among other things, did I put my knuckles in his neck—deliberately to hurt him?” She tried to sound the humorous note. " Jack again seized the bar, and, dashing it furiously against the door, speedily burst it open. “But, forgive me, you are tired. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. “I am afraid,” he said to Anna afterwards, “that it was a mistake to order the champagne sec. The man was dangerous.
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